The wooded trail wound beneath a leaden gray sky, bare branches creaking as if the wind had turned them into a chorus of brittle whispers. The air was thick with the acrid stench of fresh ashes and sodden moss, an echo of the ravaged Nest still smoldering in the distance. Nyra led the way, her black boots gliding over the damp earth without a sound, her dark habit brushing fallen leaves like a murmur of shadows. Her pale hair barely fluttered, catching faint glints from the dull sky. The six Templars followed in formation, the rhythmic thud of their boots echoing like a war drum, sacks full of crystals clinking with a broken, metallic sound. Lilith brought up the rear, her black wings grazing low branches with a faint hiss, humming a discordant tune that seemed to tangle in the air and vibrate among the naked trunks.
Lilith took a playful leap over a gnarled root, splashing mud onto her boots, and spun toward Nyra with a crooked grin that flashed a sharp fang. "Hey, Nyra, why didn't we just turn them to dust right then and there? Those squealing elves were like flies buzzing around a corpse. Poof!" She threw her hands out in an exaggerated gesture, mimicking an explosion. "Ashes and done. Now they'll come back with more, don't you think? I figured you, with that air of yours, would've made them vanish in a blink."
Eryn, the Templar leader, adjusted the sack on her shoulder with a low grunt, her voice slicing through the air like a sword slipping from its sheath. "See? Even the succubus is right for once. A dead enemy doesn't come back, Nyra. What was the point of letting them scurry off like rats? We could've crushed it at the Nest and spared ourselves the hike."
Nyra stopped dead, her boots sinking slightly into the sticky mud. She turned with deliberate slowness, her habit whispering against the wet leaves as if the forest itself held its breath. A low, melodic laugh slipped from her lips, a sound too soft for the icy edge gleaming in her purple eyes. She raised a gloved hand, fingers curling as if cradling something fragile yet dangerous. "So shortsighted, my impatient little ones? Killing them would've been a gift, a favor wrapped in blood for their lord. He'd think, 'Oh, the Nest crushed them, what a shame, a minor accident.' He'd keep sipping his elven wine and counting his coins. But now…" She paused, her smile widening just a fraction, a flash of white teeth against the day's gray. "Now he knows someone stronger trampled his pride. He'll come looking, and every step he takes will drag him deeper into his own grave."
Lilith tilted her head, her wings buzzing with a faint snap as she crossed her arms. "And if he finds us first, huh? I don't like sitting around waiting for an arrow in the ass, Nyra. I'd rather be the one playing target practice with their heads."
Nyra tipped her head toward Lilith, her eyes narrowing with a mix of amusement and menace. Her fingers tapped against her own arm, a slow, deliberate rhythm. "What a vivid imagination, little succubus. Those elves were trash—cheap meat with rusty swords and magic that barely sparks. Their lord has no power, just numbers. We'll bleed his scouts like pigs in a slaughterhouse. His crystals will fall into our hands like plucked petals, his strength will crumble, and when he's naked and trembling, we'll crush him without even dirtying our boots. This game isn't won with blood, Lilith. It's won with patience… and a touch of someone else's desperation."
Eryn frowned, her fingers tightening around the sack's strap. A glint of admiration flickered in her dark eyes, but her tone stayed sharp. "So you let them live to set a trap. What if he doesn't bite like you expect? What if he sends everything he's got at once? We're few, Nyra. Six Templars and a succubus with too much tongue aren't an army."
Nyra turned to Eryn, her smile sharpening, though her words came soft, almost maternal—a contrast that chilled the blood. "If he were dumb enough to throw his full weight at us, he'd already be dead, Eryn. No, he'll send scouts first, nervous little packs to sniff the ground. We'll hunt them like hares, one by one, collecting their crystals like ripe apples. We'll let fear gnaw at him, let his own men start whispering in the shadows: 'Who's stalking us? What's waiting?' When he finally comes with his army, he'll find a forest that hates him, a terrain we've already torn from his grasp, and an Abbess who's beaten him without even meeting his eyes."
A young Templar with a freckled face and an easy laugh slammed her spear against the ground with a resounding clang. "I like that, Abbess! How about we leave a little gift for their lord? Their heads on stakes, all lined up nice, like a welcome path."
Lilith let out a sharp cackle, leaping toward Nyra and landing beside her with a playful flutter. "Oh, yes, yes! Imagine that lord's face when he sees his reception committee. 'Welcome, idiot, here's your crown of thorns.' Nyra, you're twisted in the best way, and I'm living for it."
Nyra resumed walking, her voice now a warm coo that clashed with the air's biting chill. "All for our lord, Lilith. He deserves a clean board, a realm without broken pieces. And I'll give it to him, step by step, crystal by crystal, until the whole world kneels." The Templars exchanged quick glances, a shiver running through them as the forest seemed to lean toward Nyra, bare branches creaking as if secretly applauding. The wind carried a faint scent of iron and smoke, and the group pressed on in silence, the weight of her promise hanging in the air.
Hours later, the loot rested safe in the main sanctuary, humming beneath the amber glow of the crystal hanging high above, a warm light licking the stone walls' cracks as if trying to stitch them with gentle fire. It was noon, and the air inside was heavy with the dense smell of stale incense and hot metal, a damp undertone seeping from the cracked floor. Renn lounged against the altar, one leg propped on its edge as he spun his dagger between his fingers with a lazy hum. His tattered cloak grazed the dusty stone, kicking up small gray clouds no one noticed. Seraphina and Valka flanked the altar, serene as statues under the light, a stark contrast to the whirlwind that burst through the door: Nyra, Lilith, and the six Templars strode in with resounding steps, heavy sacks on their shoulders jangling like broken bells.
Nyra stepped forward, her black habit whispering against the floor like a secret slipping through shadows. With an elegant, almost mocking gesture, she dropped a sack at Renn's feet. The contents spilled with a dry crunch: 22,900 Holy Crystals gleamed like a handful of fallen stars, flashing in the amber light with dizzying reflections. Beside them, 500 Epic Materials rolled out in messy piles, chunks of metal and stone clashing with a metallic echo. A parchment scroll—an Advanced Building Blueprint—landed with a dull thud, unrolling just enough to reveal crooked lines.
Renn caught the dagger mid-spin with a quick flick and let out a low whistle, raising an eyebrow. "Well, damn, what do we have here? Looks like you raided a mine and brought back the shopping cart too. How much did you haul in, Nyra? Give me numbers before I start dreaming of mattresses that don't creak."
Nyra tilted her head, her smile subtle as a knife wrapped in velvet. Her purple eyes gleamed as she stepped closer, her voice warm but edged with a chill that prickled the skin. "Twenty-two thousand nine hundred crystals, my lord, five hundred materials, and a blueprint for your greatness. Nine hundred enemies fell under our hands, and one fat priest, cheeks wobbling like jelly, gave us an extra four hundred. All for you, so the world trembles when you speak."
Lilith popped up beside Renn in a nimble leap, her wings buzzing as she leaned toward him with a mischievous grin that bared a sharp fang. "My lord, you should've seen the mess! Bones flying, priests squealing like I'd stepped on their tails… and then those dumb elves came whining for scraps. It was like putting on a circus just so you could laugh from your throne!"
Renn kicked a crystal with his boot tip, chuckling dryly as the orb rolled and clinked against another. "Twenty-two grand, huh? Think I'll buy a castle… or at least some boots that don't leave me smelling like swamp. And what's with those elves? Are they a headache or just long-eared idiots who don't know when to quit?"
Nyra edged closer, her boots brushing the floor with an eerie silence. Her hands clasped before her, fingers tapping a slow rhythm against her arm. "Not a headache, my lord. A gift. We let them go so their lord, this Ardyn, comes trotting after us. It'll be a slow, delicious hunt… a game he's already lost before it begins."
Seraphina crossed her arms, her robe whispering like a soft echo as her voice cut through with calm resolve. "That's a haul worthy of the Order, my lord. We could use the crystals for a tower or walls. This sanctuary looks sturdy, but it won't hold a siege on faith and good vibes alone."
Valka nodded, her white armor creaking with a clear, metallic ring. She leaned slightly toward Renn, her gray eyes glinting like still water. "The water whispers danger's growing, my lord. This is a blessing, but we've got to play it smart. The wind doesn't lie."
Renn spun the dagger again, catching it midair before pointing it vaguely at Nyra. "Hold up. A hunt, you say? Sounds like you've got a plan brewing in there, Nyra. Spill it—I want the juicy details. What's cooking for this Ardyn?"
Lilith flopped onto the altar's edge with a playful thud, swinging her legs as she kicked the air. "Yeah, Nyra, let's hear it! Tell him how you're gonna make those elves wish they'd stuck to weaving flower crowns. I say we rip off their ears and hang 'em as decor, huh? It'd look cute by the entrance."
Renn gave her a light elbow, laughing as he dodged a flutter of her wings. "Easy, succubus, don't get too excited. No ear necklaces yet. Though…" He paused, eyeing Nyra with a curious glint. "This hunt thing sounds like we're gonna squeeze this guy like an orange. How's it rigged?"
Nyra turned her head to Lilith, her eyes narrowing with a mix of amusement and warning, then shifted her gaze to Renn. She leaned slightly toward him, her voice dropping to an intimate murmur that seemed to wrap around him like a snare. "My lord, those elves were weak—a handful of scouts with swords that wouldn't cut butter and magic that barely flickers. Their lord, Ardyn, has troops, lots of them, but it's all volume, not quality. We let them go so he feels the slap to his soul, so he sends more to sniff us out. Every group that falls gives us crystals, tells us who he is, what he's got, where he hides. We'll wear him down, bleed him drop by drop, and when he tries to face us, he'll have nothing left but broken shadows and an echo of his own rage."
Renn let out a short bark of laughter, kicking another crystal that rolled back to the sack with a sharp clink. "So we turn them into a crystal farm on legs? Nyra, you're a twisted genius. I'm in. But tell me, how sure are we this Ardyn doesn't just cry in his cave instead of coming after us?"
Nyra straightened, her smile widening just a hair, a gesture blending adoration with ice-cold calculation. "Because I made it personal, my lord. We ripped his pride apart in front of his own men, and guys like him don't swallow a humiliation like that without swinging back. He'll come, stumbling over his own fury, and we'll be waiting… with smiles and traps all set."
Lilith clapped with a squeal, her wings buzzing as she leapt off the altar and did a midair flip. "Oh, it's gonna be a gorgeous mess! My lord, let me lead a patrol, yeah? I wanna welcome them with a hug… or a good stomp, if you let me improvise."
Renn raised his hands, feigning surrender. "Chill, Lilith, don't charge off yet. Nyra's running this show, and from how it's looking, we'll squeeze Ardyn dry before he knows he's bare-assed." He turned to Nyra, scratching his chin with a raised brow. "What if he gets smart and sends something heavier than scouts? Got an ace up your sleeve, or are you just gonna wing it with that 'everything's under control' face?"
Nyra tilted her head, her fingers pausing their tapping. Her voice was a warm whisper now, laced with a certainty that chilled the air. "If he sends more, my lord, it just speeds his fall. Every man he loses is a crystal in your hands, every scream an echo that weakens him. I don't need an ace, because Ardyn's already playing my game… he just doesn't know the rules yet."
Seraphina frowned, stepping forward with her hands on her hips. "That all sounds real poetic, Nyra, but we're talking a lord with resources. If we underestimate what he can throw at us, this sanctuary's gonna be a pile of busted rocks before you finish your 'game.'"
Nyra turned to Seraphina, her gaze sharpening for a split second before softening into a maternal smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, Seraphina, always so practical. I'm not underestimating him, dear. I understand him. And when you understand your prey, there's nothing to fear. Just wait… and pick up the pieces."
Lilith draped herself over Renn's arm, swaying a little as she gazed at him with gleaming eyes. "My lord, aren't you pumped? We're gonna have a forest full of elves running around like headless chickens, and we just sit back counting crystals. It's like a game we can't lose!"
Renn patted her shoulder, chuckling low. "If we win, awesome. If not, guess we'll learn to make elf stew. Nyra, you've sold me. We're running your plan, but if this goes sideways, you're cleaning up the mess… and grabbing me a new mattress while you're at it."
Nyra dipped her head in a slight bow, her eyes flashing with a mix of devotion and something darker. "All for you, my lord. A clean board, a flawless realm. Step by step, crystal by crystal, until the world bends."
The crystals gleamed on the floor, a sea of light whispering promises, as the sanctuary's air grew heavier, more alive, as if the very walls held their breath for the game Nyra had already begun to weave.
While night settled over the sanctuary, miles away, the Sylvan Bastion simmered with pent-up fury. The hall rose amid living trunks twisting like earthen veins, their damp wood creaking under the greenish glow of sputtering dusk-lit torches. The air was thick with the bitter tang of sour tea and wet bark, a sticky hint of sap clinging to the tongue. Lord Ardyn, 23, with short, tousled brown hair like a gust had ruffled it, sat on a throne carved from intertwined branches, his fingers drumming against a worn wooden mug. Before him, Darion Veltharis, his epic hero, rested a hand on the sword at his belt, black armor gleaming with elven runes that seemed to whisper in the gloom. A yellowed parchment map lay spread between them, its edges wrinkled from constant handling, as their low voices mingled with the crackle of flames.
"If we take Raven's Pass, we could flank the next Nest before they—" Ardyn cut off, snapping his gaze up as the door groaned open with a harsh creak, like the wood itself whined at the interruption.
Eryndor limped in, his green tunic torn at the shoulder and spattered with dry mud, followed by Kael, whose eyes blazed like embers under a dented helm revealing sweat-soaked strands of hair. The subcommander gripped his sword hilt so tight his knuckles whitened, his ragged breaths rasping like an old bellows.
Ardyn slammed the mug down, rattling the map, his dark eyes narrowing to slits. "What happened? Where are my crystals? Don't tell me the Nest swallowed them and left me empty-handed again."
Eryndor dipped his head, his voice calm but taut, like a thread about to snap. "It wasn't the Nest, my lord. They took everything. A succubus with black wings, an elf with purple eyes, and six women with golden spears. We got there exhausted after days of fighting, and they… they snatched the haul like it was theirs. Kicked us out without a chance to breathe."
Kael stepped forward, spitting onto the floor with a wet splat that speckled the wood. "They humiliated us, Ardyn! We fought like dogs against those Nest critters, and those witches swooped in at the end to steal the win. We should go now and turn them to ash! I want their heads on a platter—or at least their damn spears snapped!"
Ardyn shot to his feet, knocking the mug to the floor where it splintered against the planks with a sharp crack. Dark liquid spilled, pooling with a stench of burnt herbs and leaving a sticky trail. "A succubus? And I'm stuck here with kobolds that stink like sewers and can't even carry a sack? This is an insult!" He slammed his fist into the throne's arm, making the woven branches shudder. "How strong were they, Eryndor? Speak plain—don't give me half-words!"
Eryndor took a deep breath, adjusting his tunic with an awkward tug as he leaned on his staff. "Few, my lord, but intimidating. We didn't fight; they didn't let us try. The elf raised a wall of shadows that roared like a living storm, and her Templars looked at us like we were flies in their soup. They outmatched us in presence, not numbers. We left empty-handed because dying for pride wasn't worth it there."
Kael snorted, kicking the air like he wanted to hit something. "Presence, he says! What, they scared us off with a mean face and a shadow trick? That's not strength—that's us being cowards! I say we go back with everything and teach them what happens when they sneer at us."
Darion raised a hand, his deep voice cutting through their fury like a blade through leather. "Stop, Kael. And you, Ardyn, sit and breathe. I survived a year in this world because I don't charge at what I don't understand. Who's this lord? What's he got behind him? If we run in blind, we lose more than crystals—we lose the Bastion and everything we've built."
Ardyn sank back into the throne, the branches creaking under his weight like an echo of his anger. He snatched a dry leaf that had fallen onto the armrest and crushed it between his fingers, green dust scattering into the air. "You're right, Darion. I didn't get this far to get buried over a tantrum. But this burns my blood. What do we do? I'm not sitting here sniffing tea and counting twigs while they rob me blind."
Darion pointed at the map, his finger tracing a dry circle eastward across the parchment. "Scouts. Small groups: twenty common kobolds and ten elven mages per patrol. Let them map the terrain, count heads, see how deep the hole is. If they come back, we'll know what we're up against. If they don't, we'll know they're tougher than we thought and plan with brains."
Kael growled, kicking a chair that wobbled and crashed with a dull thud. "Scouts! What, we're sending lizards to count trees while those witches laugh at us from their campfires? We've got fifteen hundred men, Ardyn! Crush them now and let the forest burn with them! Or what, we'll send them a letter asking permission to fight?"
Ardyn shot him a withering glare, his voice dropping to a cold, cutting edge. "And lose them all because I don't know what I'm facing—is that what you want, Kael? Get us buried because you're so smart you'd charge in roaring like a beast? Use your head for once. Darion's right. Send the kobolds and mages. Let them sniff, look, bring back something useful. I want numbers, strength, where those rats sleep. Then we smash them, but we do it right—not like rage-drunk fools."
Eryndor nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his weary eyes as he ran a hand through his grimy hair. "It's the smart move, my lord. That purple-eyed elf… it wasn't just magic. It was like she had us sized up before we opened our mouths. They looked at us like they knew we'd run. If we face them without knowing more, they'll chew us up and spit us out before we draw a blade."
Kael spun toward Eryndor, jabbing a trembling finger at him. "You and your caution, old man! What, your knees shook when you saw those shadows? I say it's all show. One good hit and they'd crumble. Or what, you're a poet now instead of a captain?"
Eryndor scowled, straightening despite his fatigue. "My knees didn't shake, Kael. But I saw what you didn't: that succubus wielded shadows like blades, and those golden spears weren't for show. If we'd fought, you'd be dead, and I wouldn't be here arguing with you."
Ardyn let out a dry laugh, leaning forward as he drummed his fingers on the throne. "Enough, both of you. Kael, if you wanna die for nothing, do it solo. Eryndor, save your poetry for later. Darion, how long till those scouts report back? I don't wanna wait a week while these witches spend my crystals on necklaces or whatever they do."
Darion crossed his arms, the runes on his armor glinting faintly. "Two days, three if the terrain's a mess. Kobolds are fast, and the mages can read the wind to avoid traps. If they find them, we'll get numbers, positions, something solid. If they don't return, we'll know those shadows are more than a market trick."
Kael huffed, yanking his helm straight with a clank of metal. "Two days. Great. Time for those crazies to laugh harder at us. What if we send more than kobolds? A couple archers, something with teeth? I don't trust those lizards to bring back squat."
Ardyn sliced the air with his hand. "No. Kobolds and mages, that's it. If I send more and lose them, I'm out of eyes and troops. I want info, not a blind brawl. Got it, Kael, or do I need to sketch it on the map for you?"
Kael grunted, crossing his arms with a jangle of armor. "Got it, my lord. Still say it's weak. Those witches don't deserve this much caution. If the kobolds die, I won't cry, but I hope we're not wasting time while they plot something worse."
Eryndor stepped to the map, resting his staff against the table with a soft tap. "I'll send the fastest mages I've got, my lord. Ones who see through fog and hear the wind. If there's anything to find, they'll bring it back. But Kael's not all wrong—those women didn't strike me as the type to sit still."
Ardyn nodded, slumping back in the throne as his eyes gleamed with a mix of envy and cunning, the green torches reflecting in his pupils like emerald fire. "They leave at dawn, then. I want eyes in that forest before those witches have time to spend what they stole." He paused, fixing Darion with a calculating glint. "What if they're not just some lunatics with spears? What if they've got a real lord behind them?"
Darion gave a faint smile, tapping the map with a finger that left a slight mark on the parchment. "Then we'll know who we're playing with, Ardyn. A real lord doesn't hide behind shadows and threats—he leaves tracks. We'll find them, and when we do, we'll know how to cut his legs out before he takes another step."
Ardyn scratched his chin, grimacing at the tea puddle on the floor. "A year in this damn world taught me one thing: you don't win by running into the fire—you win by waiting for the other guy to burn first. Send the scouts. If this lord thinks he can rob me and walk clean, I'll make him choke on his own crystals till he's done."
Kael turned on his heel, muttering under his breath as he stomped toward the door. "Scouts, plans… more like a waste of time. Fine. If those witches wanna play, they better brace themselves for when we stop sending lizards and come for them for real."
Eryndor watched him go, sighing before turning back to Ardyn. "I'll prep the mages, my lord. But be careful what you wish for—that purple-eyed elf didn't look like she laughs without a knife ready behind her."
Ardyn let out a low chuckle, picking up another dry leaf from the throne and twirling it between his fingers. "Let her come with knives, staffs, whatever. Once we know who her lord is, I'll shove this humiliation back at her with interest. Darion, make sure those kobolds don't chase squirrels."
Darion nodded, his tone dry as the parchment. "They won't chase squirrels if I promise them a bone for coming back. I'll keep them in line."
The hall fell quiet, save for the crackle of torches and the faint creak of living branches holding up the Bastion. The leaf dust hung in the air, caught in a green beam of light, as Ardyn's eyes drifted to the map, his mind already tracing invisible lines toward a payback he couldn't yet name.
Night had fallen over the sanctuary, the amber crystal humming with a soft glow that painted dancing shadows on the stone walls, as if the place breathed with life. The air was thick with ozone and burnt wood, a distant echo of dampness drifting in from the forest. Renn stood by the altar, drumming his fingers on the cold stone in an uneven rhythm, his dagger resting beside him on a frayed cloth. Nyra faced him, her gloved hands holding a small knife she'd drawn from her habit, while Seraphina, Valka, Lilith, and the six Templars formed a ragged semicircle, their silhouettes stark against the amber shine.
Nyra knelt with a fluid motion, tracing a rough map in the floor's dust with her knife's tip. The crude lines marked rivers, paths, and a circle that must've been the sanctuary. "My lord, this Ardyn's a miser with more troops than wits. His elves ran off empty-handed, and now he'll send scouts to poke around. We'll hunt them in the narrow trails, where the forest closes like a trap. Their crystals will be ours, and their secrets will tell us how to break him before he can react."
Lilith flopped onto a nearby bench with a playful thud, swinging her legs as she leaned forward with a giggle. "So we're playing cat and mouse? I'm in, but I wanna be the sexy cat! Can I wrap them in shadows and make them trip over their own feet, Nyra? Or better—how about an illusion of a feast so they stand there drooling while we swipe their boots?"
Eryn stepped forward, her spear striking the ground with a dry thud that echoed in the hush. "If his scouts are as clumsy as his elves, Abbess, it'll be a pleasure to skewer them on stakes. Let them come, and let our lord see their forests run red for him."
Seraphina raised a hand, her voice calm but firm as a river carving stone. "It's a clever plan, Nyra, but not without risks. My lord, with these crystals, we could raise a watchtower. Whatever Ardyn sends, it won't breach our defenses if we prep now."
Valka tilted her head, her white armor creaking with a clear metallic chime. "The water murmurs the forest can be our shield. If Nyra's right, the terrain's on our side. We can set ambushes where the river narrows and the trees close like cages."
Melisa, a young Templar with short, messy brown hair falling in clumps, stepped up with a fierce grin. "Oh, I'm down for the river bit! We can chuck rocks at them from the trees while they drown. It'll be like hunting ducks, but with pointy ears."
Another Templar, her voice gravelly and face weathered, let out a dry chuckle as she tapped her spear on the ground. "Ducks, she says. I just want their boots. Mine are starting to smell like I stepped on a dead kobold."
A third Templar, sharp-eyed with braided hair, grunted in agreement. "And I want their cloaks. This cold's getting into my bones."
Renn crossed his arms, a crooked grin creeping onto his face as he scratched the back of his neck. "So we turn the forest into a crystal-making, headache-giving machine for Ardyn? Nyra, you're a twisted genius. I'm sold. But how do we pull it off without them catching us first? I don't wanna wake up with a stinky elf aiming an arrow at my face."
Nyra rose, brushing dust from her habit with an elegant flick. "Small patrols, my lord. Lilith and I will lead the Templars in groups of three. We'll stalk the tight trails, where their scouts can't maneuver or scream without us hearing. We'll use the trees' shadows and the river's noise to cover us. Every kill will be quiet, every crystal ours."
Lilith clapped, hopping off the bench with a quick flutter that stirred the air. "Oh, Nyra, you're giving me the good kind of chills! Can I wrap them in shadows and make them squeal just a little before they die? Just a little—I promise not to make a circus out of it."
Nyra shot her a sidelong glance, her smile sharp as her knife's edge. "If you must, Lilith, but don't let them see or hear you. This is a hunt, not one of your theater gigs. Save the screams for when we're alone."
Eryn grunted, nodding as she tightened her grip on her spear. "I like it. Let his scouts come. We'll gut them and stack their bodies as a message for their lord. Let him see what happens when he sends rats into our woods."
A slim Templar with a scarred cheek stepped forward, raising her spear in a swift arc. "I say we hang them from the trees. Let the crows have a feast."
Seraphina crossed her arms, her robe whispering as she tilted her head toward Renn. "My lord, if we're doing this, I say start the tower now. We don't just need traps—we need something solid. If Ardyn sends more than scouts, I want them smashing into stone, not promises."
Valka stepped beside Seraphina, pointing at the map with a gloved finger. "And I say we use the river. There's a stretch west where it's so narrow a boat barely fits. If we ambush them there, their numbers won't mean squat. The water'll drag them down before they draw steel."
Renn barked a short laugh, smacking the altar with his palm like he was sealing a deal. "By the gods, you lot are a glorious mess! Nyra, you've got my green light. Lilith, don't make too much noise with your shadows. Seraphina, get on that tower. Valka, make the river our best buddy. Melisa, no rock-throwing till Nyra says go. But what if Ardyn gets clever and sends more than we expect? I don't wanna get caught with my boots down."
Lilith draped herself over Renn's arm, brushing him with a wing as she gazed up with shining eyes. "Oh, my lord, if he sends more, it just means more fun! I'll tangle them in shadows, the Templars poke them, and you sit back counting crystals like a king. Right, Nyra?"
Nyra sheathed her knife in her habit with a quick flick, her voice dropping to a warm whisper heavy with certainty. "If he sends more, my lord, we'll turn it against him. His scouts are his eyes; without them, he's blind. Every group that falls weakens him, and by the time he musters something bigger, we'll be ready. Ardyn's a survivor, not a suicide case. He'll start small, and that's enough for us."
Eryn jutted her chin up, her crimson cape swaying slightly as she tapped the ground with her spear again. "Let him send whatever. My sisters and I will meet them with steel and fire. Right, Melisa?"
Melisa nodded, stepping toward Eryn with a giggle. "Sure thing, Eryn. If they show, I'll rip their ears off for a necklace. A nice gift for our lord—something pretty to hang in the tower."
A short-haired, graying Templar with a solid stance huffed. "I'll take their belts. Mine snapped yesterday."
Renn raised his hands, laughing as he dodged a playful flutter from Lilith. "Melisa, save the necklace for later, and you, new boots, don't get distracted sniffing feet! Belts, cloaks—what's next, their socks? Nyra, when do we kick off this hunt? I wanna see Ardyn crying before my breakfast bread runs out."
Nyra tilted her head, her purple eyes glinting with an eerie calm. "At dawn, my lord. Ardyn's scouts won't take long to show; his elves are probably already whining to him. We'll be waiting before the sun hits the trees."
A blue flash lit the air, and a holographic screen popped up before Renn:
[System]: "Mission activated: 'Silent Hunt.' Intercept Lord Ardyn's scouts and gather intel. Reward: 300 Holy Crystals, Partial Elven Map."]
Renn let out a low whistle, spinning his dagger with a quick twist before catching it midair. "Look at that—the System's on board too. Nyra, Lilith, you lead the Templars. Seraphina, get that tower up. Valka, make the river our pal. Let's make Ardyn wish he'd stuck to weaving baskets in his woods."
Seraphina raised an eyebrow, her tone dry but tinged with amusement. "Lilith, if you're leading, at least keep it quiet. Some of us wanna sleep while you play with shadows."
Valka let out a low laugh, adjusting her gauntlet with a metallic clank. "I say let her. If the scouts get distracted by her chatter, it'll be easier to stick a spear in them."
Melisa crossed her arms, eyeing Lilith with a mischievous grin. "I wanna go with her, my lord. Someone's gotta make sure she doesn't eat the crystals by mistake. Or use them to build herself a throne."
Lilith spun toward Melisa, feigning outrage as she flapped a wing. "Hey, I don't eat crystals! Well, not on purpose. But a throne sounds nice. What do you say, my lord? Let me boss around a little?"
Renn laughed, giving Melisa a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Melisa, keep an eye on her, but if Lilith builds a throne, save me a seat. Nyra, anything else before this turns into total chaos?"
Nyra straightened, her habit whispering against the floor as her eyes flared with devotion. "Just one thing, my lord. This is all for you. Let the forest be their grave, and every crystal we take a step toward your greatness."
The Templars raised their spears in a silent salute, metal glinting under the amber light, as the crystal hummed louder, like it approved the plan. But Renn lifted a hand, pausing the moment with a laid-back grin. "Hold up, hold up. This all sounds badass, but you're forgetting something. We've already got watchtowers in the works, right, Seraphina?"
Seraphina nodded, pointing at the map. "Yes, my lord. With the crystals they brought, we can have two up by noon tomorrow. They'll ping us if anything gets within a kilometer."
"Perfect," Renn said, grabbing his dagger and tucking it into his belt with a casual flick. "Then, ladies, go crash. No patrols tonight—the towers will buzz if trouble shows. Hit the sack; tomorrow's when the fun starts."
Lilith pouted playfully, crossing her arms. "No night hunting? But my shadows shine best in the dark!"
Nyra gave her a sharp look, though her lips twitched upward. "Rest, Lilith. Your shadows will have their time at dawn. Don't waste your voice now."
Eryn grunted, slinging her spear over her shoulder. "Fine, my lord. But if those towers glitch, I'll be gutting elves before breakfast."
Melisa sighed, stretching with a crack of her joints. "Rest sounds good. My arms are still screaming from lugging those sacks. Night, my lord."
Renn waved a hand as the group started to scatter, but Lilith skipped over to him with a light step, pressing herself gently against his arm with a soft sigh. A heady whiff of jasmine rolled off her, wrapping him in a sensual cloud that cut through the sanctuary's ozone tang. "My lord, take me with you? I'm a better pillow than any of those lumpy beds."
Renn patted her back, chuckling as he started toward his cabin with Lilith clinging to his arm. "Come on, succubus. You smell like you raided a whole garden. No shadows tonight—just snoring."
Lilith twisted her head back to the others, shouting with a giggle as they faded into the gloom. "Night, everyone! Don't fight over who gets to be my blanket replacement!"
Melisa cracked up from across the sanctuary, waving a hand. "Sleep tight, Lilith! Don't give the lord nightmares with those wings."
Renn flicked a hand without looking back, his voice ringing with mock swagger as he vanished into the dark with Lilith at his side. "Rest up, you lunatics! Tomorrow we make Ardyn cry, but tonight, we snooze."
The amber crystal hummed one last time, its light softening as the sanctuary's shadows settled, leaving a buzz of anticipation and the fading echo of laughter in the night.